Beautiful Disaster
by BraelynKisses
Summary: What they have is it beautiful? Or is it doomed to be a beautiful disaster? Oneshot.


Disclaimer: Anything HP is not mine.

I know that there's another fic out there with the same title (by ashleyfanfic, I believe), but I got the inspiration from the song "Beautiful Disaster," sung by Kelly Clarkson, and I couldn't come up with a better title for this short thing (or rather, I was too lazy to do it). So for that, I apologize. It didn't come out as well as I had imagined, but it was done in the spur of the moment.

Beautiful Disaster (1/1)

"You're beautiful," Hermione whispered in awe as she brushed a strand of hair out of Draco's eyes. She couldn't help but openly stare at him to admire his beauty as she straddled a sitting Draco on his bed.

Without a word, Draco reached up behind Hermione's neck, and pulled her down to him. Their lips met in a passionate embrace. She fought to keep up with him as his lips danced faster and faster. She clutched his head in her hands, afraid that if she let go, he would stop. The room was soon filled with whimpers and moans as she squirmed in his lap, wanting to give him the only pleasure that eased his pain.

Draco rolled them over, pinning Hermione beneath him. As he pressed her into the comforter, drowning her with his lips and tongue, his hands went to work on the buttons of her shirt. Running a palm up her torso, Draco released her lips to latch on to her neck. She was gasping for air, both out of need and out of pleasure as he filled his hands with her breast. She arched her back off the bed, begging for more.

Finally slowing down, Draco dragged his lips down her chest, barely touching her. Hermione held her breath in the ensuing silence, afraid to shatter the moment. He kissed the soft globes of her breasts lovingly before drawing a tightened nipple in between his lips. Hermione let out a high-pitched whimper as she felt the warm velvet of his tongue brush against the sensitive bud.

He lavished both breasts with reverent attention, ignoring the beautiful pain growing in the depths of his soul, until Hermione pushed at his shoulders. He lay back on the bed, for once allowing her to guide his movements. Hermione straddled him once again. She brushed the pad of her thumb across his lips before claiming them in a tortuously sensual kiss. She took it slow, not like the frenzied kiss before, letting him know that she would take care of him. Their tongues met in an erotic dance; slithering past each other, caressing each other, tasting each other, consuming one another.

Hermione sat up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt wondering how it was possible for her to never get enough of him, yet also feeling as if he was overwhelming her with the emotions that were flooding her. Pushing the shirt aside, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, just as it always did. Draco's pale torso was lean and lightly chiseled. But it wasn't the aesthetic sight that always took her by surprise; it was the sight of his marred skin. All along his body were thin, pale, raised scars. With her fingertips, Hermione traced the deepest and largest of scars; the scars that were soft to the touch, the scars that were a testament to how hard he was, the scars that showed how fragile he was. Her touch was feather-light, loving. No one should have to live through what he did.

Draco held onto her hips but kept his eyes closed, refusing to see the look of pain mirrored in Hermione's eyes. When she first came to him, wordlessly offering him relief from his pain, he resisted. But she had comforted him, and all the while, he saw the knowledge in her eyes that by trying to save him, her whole world could come crumbling down. In the end, they would only have each other.

Hermione touched his left arm and she felt the muscles instantly tense. It was the most painful scar on his body; physically, mentally, and emotionally. The whole inside of his left forearm was covered with scar tissue; the only thing left of the Dark Mark which he had tortuously carved out of his own flesh after the first night Hermione came to him. Leaning down, Hermione touched her lips to the marred skin; a kiss of sadness, a kiss of understanding, a kiss of thanks.

Draco flipped them over and began to show his thanks for her saving him. And deep in Hermione's heart, she couldn't help but wonder if what they had was truly beautiful, or if it was doomed to be a beautiful disaster.


End file.
